


Lab Lilium

by RaceyBoi



Series: Thorbruce Week 2018 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce Banner-centric, M/M, ThorBruce Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaceyBoi/pseuds/RaceyBoi
Summary: (1/2) Bruce is captured and brought to a lab, or the "first time" Thor's lullaby works.(2/2) Thor and Bruce adjust to his return back to the tower.





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> TW- Needles and abuse
> 
> I intentionally kept the abuse/torture and Hulk/Thor's fighting vague. Stay safe and enjoy the rest of the week! <3

The pleasant smell of freshly-made popcorn filled the air of the tower’s eighth floor. Around the coffee table, nine Avengers gathered in front of the large tv. Sunday night movie nights were arguably everyone’s favorite night of the week. “Arguably” because although some might complain and bicker over a movie choice, they still appreciated being together. The concept originated when Bruce decided to introduce Thor to Midgardian entertainment but it soon grew into a team-bonding tradition none of them would trade for the world.

Steve passed around four bowls of popcorn. One for Clint and Natasha, and another for Thor and Bruce. Since Vision didn’t eat, the third bowl went to Tony and Wanda while the last one was saved for Steve and Bucky. Once they were settled in, he clicked play on Wanda’s chosen movie, “Now You See Me”.

“You know a lot of people say I look like the lead officer in this movie.” Bruce remarked as he got comfortable in Thor’s side.

The group exchanged teasing looks and good-hearted laughter. 

“Bruce, I love you.” Tony said, “But who says that exactly?”

“What? You don’t think so?”

“Can’t say I do, bud.”

Bruce looked up at Thor expecting some kind of comment. Instead, he scrunched his nose and shook his head. Bruce just let out a small noise in between a huff and a hum and rested his head back onto Thor’s chest. He had a preference for older movies, but this one was just so cunning and calculated that he couldn’t help love it.

As the movie continued, Bruce started to drift off. He had a long history of poor sleeping schedules and restless nights, but he never had a problem when Thor was by his side. He felt safe. He felt secure. He felt loved. That feeling was only amplified during movie nights; the entire team spread across the three couches, Tony and Clint both making sharp/comical comments; a peaceful atmosphere snuggled into the room. Their guards were down and they could all relax. Movie nights were nights for familial love.

That’s how it was supposed to be.

When Bruce awoke, he was still in Thor’s arms. His body bobbed as he ran down the hall.

“Thor? What’s going on?”

Thor looked down at the man in his arms. The sudden voice seemed to briefly startle him, but he smiled nonetheless. “You’re awake, my love! I don’t meant to alarm you but,” he checked over his shoulder. “The tower has been infiltrated. Don’t turn green.”

“I won’t. Where are we-“

He gently placed Bruce feet first on the ground before opening a hidden panel on the wall. Quickly, he typed in the six letter code Tony told him, then guided Bruce into the small room by placing a gentle hand on his lower back. “We aren’t sure who they are or their initiative. Stay here, I’ll come back for you.”

He turned to leave but Bruce reached out to grab his wrist. “Thor, this is cra-“

“Please.” Thor interrupted, “I need to know you’re safe.”

Bruce’s expression softened. He leaned on his tiptoes to give the god a quick kiss. Reluctantly, he let go of his wrist and stepped further into the room.

“Kick their asses, honey.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Bruce watched as the hidden door closed in front of him. A brief look around the room showed that it wasn’t built for a long-term stay. In fact, it looked like it was installed as a kind of ‘spur of the moment’ decision. There was a single case of water and some food, but the rations would only last about a week between two people. Still, there was an oxygen filter in the ceiling. 

Sitting on one of the few chairs, Bruce let his mind wonder to whether he’s the first person to have stayed in here and what it was originally built for. Then, he looked through the scattered magazines— mainly about fashion, business, and cars. After, he played a few games of solitaire with a stray deck of cards. He wished Tony installed a clock. He was halfway through a second game of freecell when the door began to slide open.

“Finally!” Bruce jumped up, ready to give his husband a victory kiss. “What took you guys so long?”

As the door moved, it became promptly, painfully clear that Thor wasn’t waiting on the other side. An Avenger wasn’t even waiting on the other side. Instead, there were two well-built men dressed in all-black uniforms. One held a standard power-suppressing collar and the other held a bulky metal helmet that seemed to be giving off a soft beeping noise.

Bruce swallowed hard and backed into the room, his first instinct being to flee after years of running. He tried to remain calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“We know.”

The pair stepped into the room. Impulsively, Bruce ran at them, attempting to catch them off guard and shove past them by using his shoulder as a battering ram. One of the men was knocked a little off-balance but regained his footing. Swiftly, he grabbed Bruce by the arms before sweeping his legs, slamming and pinning him with his face pushed to the floor. Green began to spread up the vein popping out of the smaller man’s neck. He felt the familiar warping sensation of Hulk creeping into his consciousness, the adrenaline starting to course through his bones to feed on his psyche. His body arched and convulsed, a low gurgle escaped his lips.

Then the collar was clamped around his neck. The helmet was rammed onto his head. 

And the sensation stopped.

Bruce yelled as needles inside the helmet dove into his scalp. It began to whirr and beep louder, pushing the Hulk back into darkness by shutting down activity in specific regions of his brain. The man pinning Bruce to the ground pulled him up by his arms, tried to force him to stand then dragged him when his legs gave out. He tried to fight back, get free, do something but his entire body seemed to be in shock. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak or yell. All Bruce could do was watch as he was taken from the place he learned to call home. 

The distant sounds of battle drifted down the hall. They’ve been fighting for a while, the increased grunting making it clear that the team was getting tired. Thor unleashed a victory laugh— the kind Bruce always adored— after landing a particularly powerful punch. They fought continuously until the team of elite spies suddenly retreated. 

“Yeah, you better run!” Someone yelled.

Yet the entire battle felt strange. The enemies weren’t winning, but they weren’t losing enough to withdraw. They came prepared with a ridiculous number of men and a power-shocking collar for Wanda. The team just didn’t know why. 

“Anyone else feeling strange?” Steve asked, taking Bucky’s hand as the winter soldier helped him off the ground.

“A little.” 

For a moment they all stood there sorta dumbfounded, wondering what the purpose of that attack was. They bounced around ideas as they gathered themselves together and checked for injuries.

“Maybe they were collecting knowledge.” Tony wasn’t informed on a cyber breach.

“Did they just want us to know they’re out there?” That brought forth more questions than answers.

“Is anything missing?”

Tony went down to his lab to check on his tech. Meanwhile, the other’s rested and helped Wanda remove the metal collar from her neck. Thor left to get Bruce.

On his way down the hall, an uneasy feeling crept up his spine. Even his bones were telling him something was wrong. The atmosphere seemed dense here. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Something was off.

There was a gap in the wall. 

Thor ran down the corridor, his heart sinking as he got closer and closer to the open door. A little piece of him was still expecting to see Bruce in there. Bruce with his curly hair and tired eyes, his adorable laugh and nervous energy. Bruce with his gorgeous smile and amazing kisses, his sharp tongue and dorky personality. His wonderful Bruce.

That piece broke when the room was empty.

He ran into the small space as if he’d find his husband hiding behind the case of water bottles or under one of the sleeping bags. He circled the perimeter, panic rising in his throat. His heart jumped from his chest. He wanted to blame his disappearance on any other reason besides a capture, yet he knew the circumstances too well. Thor knew Bruce was strong and could defend himself, but he also knew Bruce’s history. He gave himself three seconds of self-blame and panic. He shouldn’t have left him alone. He should have checked on him sooner. Then, he ran to his team in a daze.

“Bruce is gone!”  
____

Everything was dark and Bruce couldn’t move. His body felt stiff, restrained. His head was aching. Sharp pains snaked up and down his skull, traveling in swarms through his cortex. 

He took a deep breath. The vibranium strap pressing against his chest didn’t allow for much expansion but the air felt fresh in his lungs. He tried to keep calm. Losing his composure would only result in pain. He tried to breathe. Being able to do that was already a win. He tried to be hopeful. He knew his team would find him.

He opened his eyes.

The lighting in the white room was harsh and caused him to flinch. He seemed to be in a surgical room. Only with his eyes open did he finally recognize the beeping of a heart monitor by his bedside and the cool air hitting his exposed chest. The shirt he was wearing prior to being captured was the least of his worries. Still, he couldn’t help be a little upset by the fact he’ll probably never get it back. It was one of Thor’s. To his right was a viewing room full of monitors and scientists shielded by a glass wall. On his left stood a table covered in medical instruments Bruce didn’t even want to think about.

“Good morning, Dr. Banner. You must be exhausted. You slept all through the night.”

Bruce tried to look around for the voice but his head was restrained. He opened his mouth in vain, too weak to talk. The helplessness was killing him.

“Please.” a bald guy walked into Bruce’s line of sight followed by three other people wearing lab coats. “Don’t try to talk. You’ll need your energy.”

Bruce clenched his jaw. He felt the anger boiling up again. The heating of his face. The increase of his heart rate. The shocking of his new accessory. He groaned as the collar sent electricity fizzing through his veins. The groan grew into a hoarse yell through gritted teeth when the collar’s spark sent signals to the machine on his head demanding him to subdue Hulk. Any tinge of green was immediately extinguished.

The scientist smiled, pleased by his inventions. 

“I’m Dr. Maddenlieb. Now that you’re awake we’re going to begin our research. Your cooperation would be appreciated. It’s not necessary.” He spoke calmly and clearly, the words almost rolling off his tongue. His casual attitude made Bruce feel like an animal. He wondered how many other people fell under his knife or laid confined to this bed. Or if he was just special.

Bruce swallowed hard and focused on his breathing as they injected and sliced. He could handle pointy objects, pain, and needles. He just couldn’t handle the thought of what they might be doing with this research. He already held himself responsible for so many deaths and the possibilities haunted his dreams. He didn’t think the world could handle another Hulk.

When the stolen samples were extracted and the experiments were temporarily concluded, the scientists left Bruce’s body buzzing. It was a sharp contrast compared to the light, pleasant tingling of Thor’s kisses. The thought of them tugged at his lips. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh whenever his husband accidentally released a trickle of electricity into their touch. He’d lose himself in his glee and “ruin the moment”. Bruce always found it endearing. It made him feel loved.

Relaxing, Bruce focused on Thor’s face. His expressive eyes. His beaming smile. His stupidly perfect hair. He let his eyelids close and imagined that the team was looking for him with Thor anxious and determined, leading the way. Truthfully, he didn’t know if they were still fighting or if they were even okay, but he couldn’t let himself slip down that rabbit hole. They’re his family. Of course they’re okay. They’re okay and they’re on their way to get him right now.

As the days went by, Bruce lost track of all sense of time. The “feeding” schedule, experiments, and breaks from being tied down seemed to be sporadic. He spoke in little increments, learning it’s best not to interact with the scientists unless absolutely necessary. He cried out less and grew numb. The verbal notes the scientists recorded became nothing more than white noise. The electrocution, cuts, burns, and prodding were nothing but painful nightmares.

Through it all, Hulk could be felt waiting behind his skull. The other guy was going to break free and it was going to be painful and violent. A loud liberation for a quiet imprisonment. Bruce wasn’t ashamed to say he couldn’t wait. 

Dr. Maddenlieb was in the middle of a procedure when a commotion began to grow outside. Cursing under his breath, he gave instructions over a call to “Take care of it.” Then he demanded his team to hurry up. As they continued, Bruce stared at the white surgical light above him. A sharp tune was ringing in his ears and his eyes were beginning to droop. This was too much. It was all catching up to him and it was too much. He tried to listen in on the Doctor’s concerns but he couldn’t focus. He couldn’t do anything except lay there and breathe. Breathe whether he wanted to or not.

As his vision blurred, there was the crashing sound of glass shattering. A figure marched into the room, furious and worried. It seemed familiar. The scientists began to scatter.

“How dare you put him on display!” the figure grabbed a hold of Dr. Maddenlieb, “Like he’s some kind of show! Some kind of animal!”

Bruce’s eyes closed and the ringing in his ears masked any noise in the room. Seconds later the pressure of the metal straps were relieved. A voice came through softly reciting his name, a careful hand touched his cheek. Bruce opened his eyes to a beautiful face.

“I got you, my love. It’s going to be okay.”

Bruce offered a lopsided smile as Thor managed to remove the collar from his neck. He spoke in a haze, mumbling and fumbling to touch Thor’s arm. “I knew you’d come.”

“In the name of the Allfathers, I always will.” 

“I dreamed of it, I knew you’d come.”

Bruce continued to mumble, his voice hoarse. Thor cupped his cheek with his hand and brushed away a stray tear he didn’t know if Bruce was even conscious of. Another crash was heard from down the hall, urging him to wrap up the reunion. He tried to pull at the bulky metal helmet but reeled back at the sound of his husband’s pained cries.

“You can’t just pull it off. It’s in his brain.” the bald man sitting against a machine with a broken nose spoke up.

Thor stomped over to him before yanking him off the ground by his arm. He spoke through his teeth. “Remove it! Remove it now!”

The doctor nodded frantically, pulling away from the god’s grip. He pressed a multitude of buttons on the side of the helmet until the needles prodding at Bruce’s head retracted into the machine. He removed it, carefully stepping away from his former subject.

Thor took the helmet from him, tossing it in the air and catching it. “Thanks.”

Dr. Maddenlieb hesitantly offered a small smile.

Then he hit the floor with a likely concussion. 

Thor smashed the helmet after knocking the scientist unconscious with it. Bruce was blinking repeatedly on the bed, clarity now creeping into his mind. He looked at Thor again, pulling him closer then touching his face to make sure he was really there, to make sure he wasn’t another desperate fever dream under the knife. Tears sprang up in his eyes. “Honey.”

Thor rubbed at his own eyes. He put their foreheads together, holding Bruce closely but carefully, cupping the back of his husband’s neck with one hand and his cheek with the other. Bruce melted into the touch, closing his eyes out of peace instead of exhaustion for the first time in weeks. All he wanted was to stay like that forever. But they weren’t safe. Not yet.

Natasha’s voice came through the com in Thor’s ear. “Anyone have eyes on Banner?”

He kissed his forehead. “I got him. Is the data destroyed?”

Steve’s voice confirmed, “Affirmative.”

Thor grinned before picking Bruce up in his arms the same way he carried him to Stark’s hidden room. He wanted to resist, claim he can walk on his own, but truthfully he wasn’t sure if he could even stand. He was just so tired. He laid his head against Thor’s chest, not daring to close his eyes, although he allowed himself to listen to the sound of his heavy heartbeat. His team was here. He was going home.

As Thor turned his back, a blond scientist crept out of his hiding place. His eyes landed on his director, lying unconscious with a bloody nose on the ground, then on their subject getting away. Panicked, he grabbed at the table before running at Thor and plunging a syringe into his neck. An unknown chemical gushed into his arteries, quickly causing his limbs to numb. The two men fell to the linoleum floor.

Bruce yelled out Thor’s name but it got lost in his own ears. The seconds stretch on. He felt his heart thudding in his chest, felt the familiar bubbling in his core. His skin began to tingle. The image of a needle piercing Thor’s perfect skin played over and over. With each view, Bruce slipped away. He was so close to freedom. Now Thor was hurt and it was all his fault. He’s the reason the god was here. He’s the reason Stark tower was attacked. He’s to blame for all of it. Bruce’s neck and face began to heat up, his hands began to shake. The world was in slow motion.

Then they hit the ground.

On impact, Bruce began to change. Green crept up his veins, spreading like a plague as he crawled out from under his husband. His figure morphed and grew. His body expanded and bulked. The corners of Bruce’s vision darkened until his sight faded entirely to black. He let go of the wheel.

Hulk emerged from Bruce’s mind, shoving himself into the world and bringing his counterpart’s pent up rage, frustration, and guilt with him. He’s been waiting for so long. The pressure that was locked in their head for weeks, threatening to detonate their brain, was finally released. He let it out with a roar strong enough to shake the building. Test tubes filled with various substances swayed and clanked, glass fell from the broken wall, and the bed Bruce was confined to rolled back with the force. Hulk greeted the blond scientist with a smile.

The man dropped the syringe. He trembled as he walked backwards, clumsily feeling his way around the bed to put it in between them. Hulk smacked it across the room with one flick of his arm. 

“Bad man.” he remembered. “Bad man hurt Hulk. Bad man hurt puny Banner.”

He didn’t remember Bruce’s pain though he felt the rage it caused. It swarmed his chest, heated his face, and clogged his brain. All he could think about was crushing every person in a lab coat he could find. They can’t hurt him again. Hulk was always under attack and half the time he didn’t even understand what he was being punished for. They pushed him time and time again back into Bruce’s head with electric shocks. He won't let them hurt him again.

Hulk charged at the frightened scientist, destroying every machine in his path as they ran about the room. It only took seconds to corner the guy. Fear made a lot of smart people do a lot of dumb things. He raised his fist in the air with a yell.

“Stop!”

Hulk froze. He turned to face the sudden voice, unsure of why he wanted to listen. He watched as Thor weakly picked himself off the ground. The god could feel the weak human drug fading from his Asgardian blood. 

“Hulk, don’t hurt him. Look at me. Don’t hurt him.” His voice was calm yet stern.

He approached Hulk slowly. If these men weren’t weak midgardians Thor would have killed them himself. The mere thought of what they might have done made his blood boil and his stomach turn. Still, even with all of the disgust and malice churning in his core, his heart knew Bruce wouldn’t want this. Bruce Banner wouldn’t want anymore human blood on his hands. No matter how tainted it was.

Thor reached out his palm as a sign for Hulk to do the same. Unsure of himself, he did. Thor took a deep breath before tracing his hand along the bigger palm. He remembered all too clearly the results of the last time he tried a lullaby, years ago.

“We’re okay, big guy.” he soothed.

Hulk began to feel that familiar tight sensation overcoming his body. The mere knowledge that Thor was okay called to Bruce.

Thor thought of Natasha’s lullaby. He spoke calmly, calling on images he knew brought his husband peace. “We’re in the garden at Stark Towers. The stars are out tonight.” 

The blond scientist slipped away and began to quietly creep out of the large room. Thor lightly squeezed Hulk’s finger to maintain his concentration on their hands. After the pain the duo had suffered, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to calm Hulk if his attention slipped.

“You’re in my arms, telling me of your midgardian constellations. It’s just us and the night sky. There’s the faint sound of crickets chirping in the grass, but we’re too caught up to really notice them.” Thor felt the hand slip from under his touch. “We’re okay.” 

Hulk stumbled back. His body began to shrink, morphing into Bruce’s figure. The green color faded from his skin. Oddly, he felt relaxed. The rage boiling in his bones was calmed for a moment and, despite only being out for a few minutes, he felt tired. Though it wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that drained the body and pulled at sore eyes. It was the kind that urged on Mr. Sandman with pleasant dreams. A blissful, restful, well earned sleep. He closed his eyes.

Thor caught Bruce as his body completed the change. He sat on the linoleum floor with the smaller man in his arms until his natural complexion returned. Then he notified the Avengers and headed for the quinjet. 

An alarm was going off as he ran, it blared in Thor’s ears and pounded at the back of Bruce’s head. It was the sound of freedom. The sound of a facility in chaos. A war cry for those who were too weak to yell. Bruce’s eyes slipped open as Thor sprinted through the eerily vacant halls. His injuries were healed but he was too drained to move. He just watched as Thor plowed through door after door, the ceiling blurring above him. Watching seemed to be the only thing he could do these days.

The quinjet took off as soon as the door closed behind the couple. Thor laid Bruce on a cot before sitting beside him, running his thumb along his cheek, and pretending the clumps of red in his beautiful curls didn’t make him ill. He offered a warm smile for Bruce’s tired eyes. 

Bruce returned it half-heartedly. He laced his fingers in between Thor’s before tugging on his arm. That was their silent way of telling the other to lay down. They came up with their own secret language long ago, for moments one or the other was nonverbal, and using it always made them feel at least the tiniest bit safer.

Thor lowered himself onto the small cot as he wrapped Bruce in his arms and carefully entangled their legs. He stroked the back of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He let go of a shaky exhale before kissing his head again. “I love you so much, Bruce.”

Bruce tapped three times on Thor’s hand.

I love you.


	2. Height Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Bruce adjust to Bruce’s return to the tower and they begin on the path to healing.

Things have changed around the tower since Bruce’s return. A heavy atmosphere seemed to follow him through the halls. It lingered in rooms and draped itself over his head. Friends weren’t sure whether to give him space, comfort, or normalcy. Bruce was distant no matter how they approached. He no longer laughed at jokes. He didn’t engage in any conversation. He only offered hollow smiles and half-hearted comments. Bruce drifted through the tower, a shell of a man.

Thor was only able to catch glimpses of the man Bruce used to be in the secret moments they shared late at night. They’d lay in bed together, whispering about their days and dreams as the world seemed to halt around them. Nothing else existed in those moments. The only thing that mattered was their bodies pressed together and how Bruce seemed to fit perfectly into Thor’s side. That, and the comfort in their bones, the tickle of Thor’s breath on Bruce’s neck, and their tired voices speaking sweet trusting symphonies. 

Thor convinced himself that if he just kept talking until Bruce fell asleep, he might be able to battle off some of his bad dreams. But he couldn’t talk forever. Despite every effort to stay awake, his body often betrayed his heart by demanding his brain to sleep. He wasn’t desensitized to exhaustion like Bruce was. Where sleep played with Bruce’s body like a swarm of pesky gnats, it yanked Thor along kicking and screaming. It demanded to be heard in his silence.

Sometimes when sleep wrapped him in its arms earlier than usual, he’d wake up late at night to find the spot next to him empty. Concerned and bleary eyed, he’d crawl out of bed to find Bruce either in the lab or the kitchen.

On a particularly memorable night he opened the door and was greeted with a delightful, delicious aroma. The familiar smell wrapped itself around his nose and playfully pulled him to the stove, where he knew he’d find Bruce stress-baking something he’d never actually eat. Bruce wasn’t much for food nowadays. The liquid that coursed through a clear tube to regulate and maintain his diet spoiled his appetite. That, and several other factors that never seemed to leave him.

Thor immediately spotted his husband upon entering the kitchen. Not because he was nervously searching for him the second he step foot outside of their bedroom – which he was definitely doing – but because he stood out to anyone who entered. From across the room Bruce was kneeling on the kitchen counter as he ransacked the cabinets. With messy curls and science beaker pajama pants, he mumbled to himself while pulling out object after object.

“What are you doing?” Thor rushed over to him. He held his arms up, ready to catch Bruce if he somehow managed to fall backwards.

Bruce examined everything he took out before placing it on the counter beside him. Without looking up, he mumbled “I was looking for icing. Then I figured I should reorganize while I’m up here.”

“Sweetheart, it’s 3am.”

Bruce shrugged. He wasn’t going to fall asleep until the sun was up, so he might as well be productive and keep busy in the late hours he was alone. Besides, he always rested easier knowing things were tidy. It was best to wear himself out. No energy meant no thoughts. No thoughts meant no pain.

“Bruce, look at me.”

Bruce continued to examine and set down tin after tin, bottle after bottle, box after box. He found comfort in the repetitive actions of reading and placing, reading and placing. It was one of those nights where, as long as he kept busy, he could pretend he was okay. If he worked hard enough he could even convince himself that it was 3pm instead of 3am and things were normal. If he allowed himself to look, then Thor would break down his illusion and expose him. He’d give him those handsome puppy dog eyes and Bruce would have to shatter.

“Bruce.” Thor tried once more. He could see all too clearly that his husband was beginning to spiral again. When there was no response, he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s legs and chest and tipped him backwards so he’d fall into his arms. He placed him on the counter so he was sitting facing Thor instead of kneeling with his back towards him.

Bruce flailed in Thor’s arms until he was back on the counter. He looked like he was trying to be irritated, yet didn’t care enough to actually feel it. “That was-.”

“The only way to get you to look at me.” Thor placed a gentle hand on Bruce’s cheek. He didn’t understand what Bruce was going through or what exactly happened in that lab, he just wanted to be able to help him. He wanted to get through to him. Bruce has brushed aside everyone’s efforts to help. He’s tried to throw himself into isolation and locked himself away from his friends-- his family. Thor wasn’t going to let him believe for a second that he’d be able to get away with diving into deeper waters, and he was fully prepared to fish him out himself.

Bruce offered a smile that looked more sorry than sincere. He knew Thor was hurting from his pain. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to pretend he was the only one impacted. He knew it all, yet he continued to self-destruct. Bruce gazed past him to peer at the oven. The light inside revealed the rising of chocolate chunk muffins. Thor’s favorite. Bruce often baked things he was fond of when he couldn’t sleep, it was a combination “Thank you”/“I’m sorry” gift that also served to direct his mind off of his demons and onto his angel. His angel, who seemed determined to ride out every episode with care and compassion.

Bruce placed his hand on top of Thor’s, focusing on the feel of his knuckles under his palm and how his small fingertips just reached the middle of the Asgardian’s fingers. He brought himself to look into his eyes, remembering how thankful he was for his presence. Thor could have stayed in bed. He could have allowed Bruce to rip apart and reassemble the entire kitchen, declare him a lost cause and a waste of his time. He could have given up on him, he was so physically and emotionally tired. They both were. Instead, Thor was there. He stood, ready to catch Bruce both literally and figuratively just in case he fell. Ready to put him back on his feet.

Bruce tapped three times on his index finger.

Thor smiled, their unspoken language translated the action into “I love you”. He tapped back as Bruce moved to wrap his arms around Thor’s neck, scooting closer to him. 

“I’m sorry.” The exhaustion dripped from voice. He wanted to say more, yet no words would come. Instead, all he had was his small truth, his shakey touch, and the muffins rising in the oven.

Thor rubbed his thumb along Bruce’s cheek bone. He leaned their foreheads togethers and felt Bruce relax against the touch. “Don’t be, my love.”

They stood together with their eyes closed and their heads touching until the oven dinged. The sound was sudden, pulling them out of their thoughts and throwing them back into the world. They both moved slowly until Thor gestured for Bruce to remain seated. He crossed the kitchen, turned off the oven, threw on an oven mitt, and placed the tray to cool on a less cluttered counter. He hummed at the delicious smell.

Bruce smiled when Thor made his way back over to him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist. “How do they look?”

“Delicious, of course. They were made by your hands.”

Bruce put his arms back around his neck. He let out a small laugh. Thor celebrated the sound in his head, playing it over and over with a smile. It was different to the shy laughter he let out while in awkward situations, or the fake chuckles he’s been mustering up too often lately. It was so gentle, so serene. Most importantly, it was sincere. Thor shook his head before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Bruce’s lips. 

They spent the next hour reorganizing the cabinets together. It’d be even harder for Bruce to sleep knowing he had an excuse not to. Thor snacked on the muffins while they worked, going as far as to dramatically hum and moan to let Bruce know they were positively delightful. In response he received a chuckle and a playful slap on the shoulder.

When the time came, he placed the muffins in some tupperware containers before instructing Bruce to wrap his legs around his waist. He did, and Thor carried him to their bed. Bruce hit the lightswitch on their way out, his eyes drooping and his fatigue catching up to him the second his head laid upon his soft pillow. Thor wrapped his body around Bruce’s and they cuddled into each other for the night, fitting together perfectly like two pieces of stained glass. Broken, yet repairable. 

The next day, like most days, Thor woke up to an empty bed. The birds chirping cheerfully and the sun shining in beams through the window, illuminating dust specks that danced through the air, told him the day was bright and young. The weather outside looked pleasant, thus notifying him exactly where Bruce was likely to be. Throwing shoes on, he strolled out of his bedroom towards his husband’s lab. Inside, he tilted a book on one of the shelves.

The bookcase moved aside. He couldn’t help wonder whether or not Bruce would have been captured if he hid inside this room instead of the “more secure” safe room. The spies clearly knew that the room existed, that he was likely to be placed in it in the event of an emergency, and they even found the code. Thor shook his head as he walked down the slim corridor, derailing that train of thought before it had the opportunity to board. 

As he approached the light at the end, the hallway opened into a tall terrarium with a round skylight ceiling. Stark Towers may not have enough ground for a secret garden, but it definitely had enough space inside for one. Stepping into Bruce’s greenhouse was like stepping into another world. Climbing figs and vines covered sections of the walls, claiming the room back as one of Mother Nature’s many homes. Plant’s stood, hanged, and thrived in various pots, trays, and baskets. Different shades of green popped from every direction. Some plants were giving life to various shapes and sizes of flowers or berries, nurturing them how a mother would care for a young boy. Assorted water fixtures were carefully placed hidden among the plants for when Bruce wasn’t able to care for them personally and a small fountain seemed to dance at the center of the space. The room was alive with nourishment.

 

There were several walkways twisting around the slightly cluttered room and Thor knew exactly which one to follow. He walked besides a small river, glancing down to watch tiny bugs and fish swim about. The stream led to a pond surrounded by rocks where plants flourished and frogs jumped from lily pad to lily pad. 

On the rocks, sat Bruce. His dark eyes, pale face, and graying hair were contrasted against the lively colors of one of the few places he felt truly safe. A book lay on the floor beside his feet, forgotten in favor of watching the pond. 

“Good morning, handsome.” 

Bruce looked up as Thor took a seat beside him. He smiled, “Morning, honey.”

For a while, they sat in silence. Comfortable, blissful silence. Bruce held onto Thor’s hand and absentmindedly played with it by running his thumb along his knuckles, lifting his fingers, and gently squeezing. There were no hesitant moments or awkward air. They moved slowly and peacefully, their chests rising with each breath. For the first time in a long time, they spent the morning enjoying each other's company in the stillness. 

Thor watched his husband as he took in the entirety of his surroundings. He was so grateful Bruce wasn’t taken from this place. He couldn’t bare the thought of it being tainted, viled by the presence of those spies. Couldn’t bare the thought of how the disturbance would affect Bruce. Couldn’t bare the image of soil spilling from turned over pots, Bruce tearing up his own creation in a desperate attempt to get away. The tenderness and warmth ripped from the atmosphere as he’s subdued, captured, and dragged from his home. All of his plants witnesses to the murder in front of them.

Thor cleared his throat. Bruce looked up at the sudden sound before a grin crossed his features. His eyes crinkled at the corners. Thor tried to offer an equally pleasant smile, except it wasn’t nearly convincing enough.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed. He wanted to wait till Bruce was ready but it was taking too long. Too many feelings were being bottled up. Too many words left unsaid, memories undiscussed, problems unresolved. He knew this is what Bruce needs to hear, even if he doesn’t want to hear it. This is how healing begins. Still, he felt selfish. He was being selfish. “We need to talk.”

“About?” 

“My love, I think you know.”

Bruce’s body language instantly shifted. The conversation was unavoidable – that fact he always knew – he just wanted to keep postponing the inevitable. He slid his hand away from Thor’s and placed it in his lap. He didn’t want to do this now. His eyes drifted to a group of tadpoles at the bottom of the pond. 

“Did you know my mom taught me how to garden?” Bruce’s voice was quiet, yet strong. His humor was dry. “Even then I had a green thumb.”

Thor sat by quietly and listened. He watched as Bruce’s eye’s somehow both softened and hardened at the same time. 

“It was our little thing. Everyday after school I’d come home. Rush through my homework. She said as long as I got it done, we can garden before dad got home. Everything was before dad got home. The garden was a safe world for us. It was like– like as long as we stayed there, nothing could hurt us. Not my dad, not bullies, nothing. It was us against a peaceful world.

“But of course, it never lasted. Nothing does. You know nothing does. We’d always hear dad’s car pull into the driveway and scurry inside to clean up before dinner. Some days I felt bad for wishing he’d never come home. Some days I didn’t. Then he... killed my mother. I couldn’t feel bad after that.”

Bruce glanced at Thor, who was listening with full attention. He went on.

“I moved in with my Aunt Sue after my dad was finally gone. She didn’t have enough space for a garden, but I always kept a few potted plants inside. When I moved around,” he cleared his throat, “When I was being hunted and forced to run, plants were the only form of consistency I had. I learned how to care for different species in different environments. I talked to them when no one was around. I don’t know if my mom would be proud of what I’ve become. I know that sometimes when I confessed to them I felt like she was there. That she was watching over me or standing beside me. As long as I keep giving to the earth I’m keeping her memory alive.”

The air was silent and still for a few more seconds. Bruce breathed slowly while Thor took in the tale. He placed a hand on Bruce’s knee. Bruce grabbed it.

“That’s a beautiful and sad story.”

“I’ve never told it before.”

“Thank you,” Thor squeezed his hand, “for sharing with me.”

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to focus on the long concealed emotions and thoughts finally moving through his head. He was never the most articulate person. He never dealt with emotions well. He never thought of being secure enough to address these memories. Yet, here he was with the love of his life. Ready to let it all out.

“I thought about a lot when I was in there.” his voice wavered, “My dad, Ross, Hulk, Betty. Mainly about you. But also about my garden and my mom. I wondered how long this room would last without someone to take care of it. What would die and what would over grow.”

Bruce wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm. Thor kissed his other hand before rubbing calming circles in the middle of his palm. “It’s okay.”

As Bruce continued, his wall crumbled down and a flood of words skewed from his lips. He repressed these memories for so long that he wasn’t able to stop once he began. He started slowly, his voice shaking more as he went on. “I had a lot of hallucinations and vivid dreams. I saw my mom a few times. She looked sad, like she was really seeing me in that moment. Like she was there, looking down at her boy strapped to that bed.”

Bruce’s voice cracked as he finished his sentence. Thor pulled him in close, dragging him into his lap.

“She was just standing there, watching me. My throat was too raw to talk. Then I blinked and-“ 

He let out a shaky sigh, something in between a breath and a sob. Thor rubbed his back and spoke softly, “Take your time. It’s alright.”

“Then I blinked and she was bloody.” Bruce whispered, “It was my fault. Brian stabbed her and it was all my fault. She was protecting me!”

Thor wrapped his arms around Bruce and tried to calm him. He just mumbled with his face buried in Thor’s chest. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else, Thor. I can’t be alone anymore, I just can’t, but I don’t-”

Bruce broke down in tears before he could finish. Thor held him tight in his arms. He ran his fingers through his hair and hushed his shaking husband.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s not your fault and I’m never going to leave you. You won’t hurt me. You don’t need to be alone and I won’t let you be.” Thor comforted Bruce, rocking back and forth until he was no longer trembling in his arms. 

They shared another long stretch of silence. It was much different than the first one, but it was just as bonding. It was just as healing. Bruce’s sniffles and sobs added to the small noises of the garden; water droplets, frogs singing, and splashes. Thor continued to stroke his hair until he was completely quiet. He kissed his head.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Bruce slowly lifted his face from the crook of Thor’s neck. He wiped his puffy eyes. “For?”

“Your strength, my love.” Thor smiled. He ran his thumb along Bruce’s cheek to smear away a stray tear. He knew it wasn’t easy to open up. “This is progress. This is how you're going to get better.”

Bruce gave Thor a small grin. “Thank you for staying with me, honey. I know you’ve been hurting too. I’m sor-“

“This isn’t about me.” Thor interrupted. He didn’t care about his pain. He wasn’t the one experiment on like a lab rat, forced to live his deepest nightmare, forced to hallucinate his dead mother. His suffering caused by Bruce’s suffering wasn’t important right now. What was, was Bruce. He wasn’t going to let him devalue his own suffering.

Bruce turned himself in Thor’s lap to look up at him. “But it isn’t fair of me to just pretend you’re not being affected. You’ve been doing so much for me, you’re exhausted.”

“That’s my job, you’re my husband. I’m not entirely sure what that titles entails on Midgardian, but I vowed my life to you with these rings. In battle, in sickness, in despair, I will be there. Even without them, I’d move mountains, drag the largest dundlefork through a forest of minted largraphs to ensure you’d be okay. I’d trade galaxies for your happiness, Bruce.”

Thor’s voice was mighty and sincere as he professed. Bruce was speechless. He usually responded awkwardly to average verbal affections, never mind a declaration of care and devotion. At a loss for words, he simply reached up and kissed his lips. 

Thor smiled in the embrace as they kissed, feeling the electricity tingle in the air around him. Before he could control it, his joy stung the air and sent a low crackle of lightning into Bruce’s bloodstream. He reeled back, worry printed on his face, fully expecting Bruce to be on the verge of a panic attack from PTSD.

But he was fine. He even smiled.

Bruce has been secretly working on associating Thor’s electricity with him instead of Ross for a while and for the first time, it didn’t make him anxious. He was on the road to healing. For the first time in a long time, he knew he didn’t have to travel that road alone. 

And he wasn’t expecting to.


End file.
